Isn’t that Wallace and Millie in the doggie park? Yes, but you have to look close. Millie is under the tree and Wallace is walking in the background behind the tree. This was a morning outing just north of Pembroke road. More details if you read on.
Wallace is going to get a phone today which made me realize I don’t know how phone cards work or what phones they work with. Nor do I know how the cards work and I have never seen anybody using one in this country, so I don’t know if America uses the same system. I have a phone that works and never did get into call forwarding, mail box and text messaging. Even as a teenager, I found such “features” trite and I was, of course, way to cool for such things and you know it. There was zero in the tip bucket last evening, so Donovan’s is not an early week destination for me any longer. I have found the worst song ever recorded, a Tex Ritter number called “Blood in the Saddle”. I’ve burned it on my newest set list in case anybody ever calls me lousy, or requests one to many country tunes. I’ll be ready for them. Man, that song is bad. Please go listen to it. “Pity the poor cowboy all bloody and red, oh the bronco fell on him, and mashed in his head.”
I biked to Barnett’s to (finally) get keys cut. Moments later, with all the supplies Barnett’s has hoarded over the decades, they do not have my Ilco key blanks, meaning an aerobic bike ride to ASAP locksmith where there is a guy who looks so much like Cowboy Mike I had to do a double take. Which reminds me, the word on the street is that Cowboy Mike has his old four-piece band together again (The “Mudflaps”). That raises two other questions. Where are they expecting to play and wasn’t Mike supposed to drop by last night to help out?
Wallace took Millie to the doggie park. He saw nobody, but he still goes out during the hot part of the day, so that figures. He reports a plaque there saying the park is dedicated to greyhounds that never had a life. I showed him an ad for Poopfreeze. Don’t know what that is? It is a can of gas you spray onto the doggie doo which freezes it solid so you can clean it up easier. These are wonderful times, indeed. The same catalog has a poor man’s paper shredder. It resembles five pairs of scissors attached to one pair of handles.
Murphy’s Law. Now that I need two monitors, guess what we are out of at the shop? Three months ago we were throwing them in the dumpster. So I did my research. We can’t get Atlantic Broadband as their service area ends four blocks south of here, meaning we have to deal with the dreaded phone company to get Internet.
I got 208 miles on my past $60 of gasoline and now I admit for the first time in my life, I must begin to conserve and track the prices. Normally my calculation is how far I can travel for $1, and these days it is 3.46 miles. If this continues, even I will be feeling the pinch. You like statistics? My blood pressure is 112/68 today and my pulse averaged 81 per minute for the last year.
Later, Wallace showed up with a cell phone. His was cheaper to buy ($30, a Lucky Goldstar), but has what I think are outrageously expensive minutes. Yes, I pay a flat $50 per month, but I can talk all I want and most long distance is two cents a minute. Wallace must purchase top-up cards and even calling Canada is fifteen cents per minute. We fired up the charger but he won’t make any calls tonight because activation requires an Internet connection. (There is no Internet here.)
His phone says he can surf the web, which I’d like to see. Text messaging, well, that is for no-minds. It’s like knocking on your neighbors door and asking him to telephone you. Text messengers are bored little minds connecting with their peers the half the speed of Morse code. My regular readers need not worry, I have no plans to thumb-type this blog.
The bottle of wine shown recently retails for $52.99. Too bad I don’t have another Kim Berlin to share it with. [Author’s note: Kim Berlin was a tall 19 year old blonde girl I met when I was 24. She walked up to me and said she’d like to “take me and a bottle of Black Tower back to my place and not quit until we were both finished”, and that is precisely what happened. If she’d been from Florida, she’d have wanted the fifty-three bucks.]
Millie-Belle. We had to give Millie, who has now joined the ranks of fine southern ladies, a more appropriate, and hyphenated, first name. Pudding-Tat. Millie-Belle.
